


Caught Between the Two of You

by drowning_ophelia



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Bill Hader made me do this, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-19 13:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowning_ophelia/pseuds/drowning_ophelia
Summary: You own the Derry Town House and are caught off guard by a group of friends who check-in. You get closer than anticipated with one of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like so many others I’ve fallen back into the deep hole that is the IT fandom. I’ve tried my hand at a few fics back in 2017, but I neither finished nor wanted to follow up on any of them. Instead, I’ve started a new small miniseries. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Quick disclaimer: This is slightly AU and not canon. In order to feed my Bill Hader crush, I decided to pair Richie Tozier with a Fem!Reader. Please, don’t hate me for this, I love Eddie and Richie as much as all of you, but I also just love Bill Hader (plus, who can say what’ll happen in future chapters?) (stay tuned, I guess?). Also, Bill Hader got to keep his blue eyes! Okay, I’ll stop typing Bill Hader now…

The last day of summer had been blown away by a storm that had covered Derry like a dreary blanket. While others mourned the sun that had disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds, you rejoiced and embraced the rain and bustling wind. After all, Maine was the most beautiful when wearing her stunning fall foliage.

You leaned back in a comfortable armchair in your favorite coffee store, a steaming cup of Earl Grey sitting in front of you and a book lying open in your lap. Derry was oddly quiet today, barely anyone had dared to brave the weather. The streets were almost deserted, the posters of missing children flapping in the wind. Some of them had already been ripped away, dancing down Main Street like small ghosts.

Suddenly, however, the storm’s soothing waltz was disrupted by a car speeding past the coffee store. Your brows nudged together in a frown. Maybe they had found one of the missing children…or possibly a body? Then again, the cherry red mustang looked nothing like the sedan the sheriff was driving when he was off duty.

Just when you finally wanted to return to your book, discarding the reckless driver, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was a text from the girl who helped you out at the inn you had inherited from your father after he had passed away a few years ago.

The car hadn’t belonged to the sheriff or any other member of the police force—it was a new guest. With a sigh you got up, looking at the tea longingly. “Can I get a to-go cup for this, please?” You looked at the barista apologetically. He nodded. “What’s the hurry?” he asked as he filled the rich amber liquid into a paper cup.

“Olivia needs me at the Town House. Apparently, we will have an entire party checking in today, out of nowhere. I can’t blame her to feel a little overwhelmed. No one ever comes here during this time of year, least of all an entire group without any reservations.” You shrugged and smiled gratefully as he handed you the warm beverage. “So much for my day off.”

After wishing him a good day, you hurried out of the warm enveloping scent of coffee and into the crisp fall air. It wasn’t a long walk, but the speeding car had suggested a certain urgency so you didn’t want to loiter. Plus, you were terribly curious as to find out who exactly belonged to this mysterious group. Who was desperate enough to travel to slumbering Derry, out of nowhere?

“Hi, I’m terribly sorry for the wait. I’m [Y/N] [L/N], how may I help you?” You placed the tea on the marble surface of the old mahogany counter behind which Olivia stood, wide-eyed and relieved to see you back.

The tall man in front of you seemed familiar, although you couldn’t quite place him. His dark brown hair looked disheveled, suggesting he had run his hands through it one too many times. The bags under his eyes told you he was in dire need of sleep, but his blue eyes still looked you over attentively. So much so that his lips curled up in an appreciative smile as he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“I’m Richie Tozier. I was hoping you’d have six vacant rooms for some friends and myself,” he explained, still looking at you with a certain spark in those clever eyes. You felt heat rise into your cheeks, but immediately told yourself it was from hurrying back here.

“Certainly.” You plastered your professional smile onto your lips, shrugging off your coat as you slipped behind the counter, glancing at the computer screen which already held all the information. Olivia wasn’t stupid, she was just a little insecure.

Richard Tozier. He had been one of the lucky ones to get out of Derry, to start a life somewhere else. It wasn’t like you had followed his career, but you had occasionally stumbled across his standup performances when you were zapping through TV channels on sleepless nights. He wasn’t classically handsome, but you couldn’t say that the warmth of his smile and his tousled hair left you unaffected.

The comedian eyed you with great curiosity as you took down the names of the other guests. Some of them you had heard before—mostly because you had read the obituaries of their parents in the paper.

“Let me show you to your room,” you suggested and gestured towards the staircase. “I’d like that,” he agreed in a low voice. “There’s a bar through there if you and your friends plan on getting together tonight. Breakfast can be served between six and ten, just let us know what time works best for you. You’re currently our only guests. Derry is very quiet at the moment,” you explained and finally came to a stop in front of the designated room.

“Don’t hesitate to ask if you might need anything. The front desk is not always staffed, but I live next door. If you don’t feel like going outside, you can always reach me by phone.” You looked around the room briefly, making sure everything was as pristine as it should be.

“So…you live there by yourself?” he asked conversationally after dropping a duffle bag on the bed. It hadn’t passed you by that he had checked your finger for a wedding band. You paused, considering your words. “Yes, I live there by myself…and, no, I’m not seeing anyone.”

A grin spread on his face and you didn’t mind that his gaze was practically stripping you naked. “That’s very good to know.”

Voices traveled up the stairs and through the still open door, indicating that more members of the party had arrived. You twisted your mouth, disappointed by the sudden disruption. “I better get going. You know where to find me should anything be amiss.”

Richie’s gaze was still on you as you left the room and something inside you was speculating whether he’d knock on your door tonight. Either way, you wouldn’t risk changing into your favorite, baggy sweatpants back home.

The group of friends had met up at the Chinese restaurant that had opened not too long ago. While you had prepared everything so that Olivia would be able to handle the rest by herself, you hadn’t missed the arrival of the beautiful redhead, Beverly Marsh. A petty part of yourself was secretly hoping that she wouldn’t look at Richie twice during dinner.

With ice-coated veins, you had wished Olivia a good night, a sudden need for a long soak in the tub urging you home.

Absentmindedly, you sat on the edge of the tub, watching tendrils of steam as they rose into the air. Although it was cold outside, you had decided to crack open a window, just to be able to listen to any cars pulling into the Town House’s carpark. Sure, you didn’t want to be caught in old sweatpants, but you weren’t sure if nothing more than a towel would be better.

An entire story unfolded in your head:

_Sneakily you remove all towels from Richie’s room, assuring yourself that he would find his way to you. Eventually, he knocks on your door, a blush coloring his cheeks crimson when he realizes that you were just taking a bath. You are wearing nothing but a sloppily wrapped towel, water droplets licking down your damp skin as you stand in front of him. Richie lets out a nervous laugh and he rubs his neck in embarrassment as he explains his problem. But instead of apologizing for this inconvenience, you just hand him the towel off your body. Goosebumps creep over your skin as the cold night air kisses its way over you, as you expose yourself to him. A hungry smirk appears on his face and he takes a step towards you. And another. And another. Until he’s in your home, locking the door behind himself. A strong hand reaches out to caress your skin and—_

You shook your head decidedly when Beverly’s voice rang through the anticipatory stillness, calling her friend, telling him he could have some of her towels. Even your fantasies betrayed you.

With an exasperated sigh, you stripped and got into the hot water. As the warmth slowly seeped into you, loosening those annoyances, you decided that you shouldn’t have thought about Richie in that way, to begin with. He was just a guest at the Derry Town House. Whoever he was seeing was none of your business. You shouldn’t get involved with him, it would cause too much trouble. Way too much trouble.

As the evening progressed and night finally wrapped the world in darkness, you found yourself on the couch, the book from earlier still on the same page. Before nestling yourself against the pillows, you had changed into a simple, yet pretty, nightgown—and a cardigan and woolen socks to keep out the cold. He wouldn’t end up here anyway, right?

Still unable to focus on the book, your eyes watched the dancing flames of the candles you had lit. Everything seemed quiet. Calm. As if the friends had never set foot into Derry again.

Annoyed with yourself, you got up and filled the kettle with water. Maybe a cup of tea could soothe your nerves. Once and for all.

Just when you looked through the cabinet for your favorite blend, a knock sounded from the front door. You half-turned, confused because you had neither heard a car nor any approaching footsteps. Another knock on the door told you that you hadn’t dreamed it up. Maybe it was another guest? Maybe the friends were still waiting for someone?

You pulled the cardigan around yourself protectively and opened the door just wide enough to peer outside. A tall figure stood with the back to the door, looking up and down the road nervously. It was Richie. You opened the door wider. “Can I help you?”

He almost jumped at your words, fear written all over his face. “Are you okay?” you checked, looking him over. It didn’t seem like he was hurt so you relaxed a little. “I need to check out. Right now,” he explained, looking over his shoulder again as if he expected something to sneak up on him. “O-okay. Maybe you should come inside first though? Catch your breath?” As if on cue, the kettle started whistling. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Richie’s gaze wandered over you for a moment and you could practically see his fear turn into panic. “You need to come inside right now and tell me what happened. I’m not taking no for an answer,” you said decidedly and stepped aside to let him in. He hesitated. “I said _right now_.”

“No, we need to leave. You can—you need to come with me.” He sounded almost hysterical. “I will do no such thing. How do you think you look? Standing on my porch in the middle of the night, practically shaking with fear, and asking me to leave with you? Get inside. Tell me why I should leave with you. Give me a very, very convincing reason.”

Like a stubborn child, he rolled his eyes at you before finally stepping inside.

You ushered him into the kitchen after locking the door. “Sit down and start talking.” Already on your way to the still hissing kettle, you gestured towards one of the stools at the kitchen island. This was probably the first time in history that someone asked Richard Tozier to start talking.

Richie didn’t say anything while you poured the hot water into two cups and when you turned to look at him, he rested his face in his palms, glasses sitting on the counter. Something bad must have happened during dinner. But what could possibly make him so afraid?

“Come on now, talk to me,” you urged and sat down next to him. He looked up, eyes finding yours. “There’s something dangerous here in Derry. You need to leave. If not with me, then by yourself. Promise me, you won’t stay here.” Richie reached out to tug a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Promise me.”

“Something dangerous? I…I don’t know. Are we talking a serial killer?” Maybe he had seen whoever had taken the children? But his explanation wasn’t enough, not enough to make you abandon your life here. “It’s something worse than a serial killer, something evil.”

It was as if awful memories flashed behind his eyes, panic rising in him yet again. Instinctively, you hopped off the stool and embraced him tightly. “You need to calm down. You’re safe right now. Breathe,” you whispered and stroked over his back in soothing circles. Strong arms wrapped around you and you felt his breathing calm as he rested his head on your shoulder.

You wished you could run your fingers through his hair, wished he would angle his head just a little so he could place kisses on your neck, your jawline. A sigh snuck over your lips and you decided that there was no harm in weaving through those curls once. Just once. He probably wouldn’t even notice…

Richie froze underneath the unexpected touch, pulling away from you slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—” you started, the desire that had been coiling in you lower abdomen instantly turning to ice. “What? Take advantage of me?” His blue eyes darkened and he arched an eyebrow inquisitively. “I just touched your hair,” you defended yourself. “There’s touching someone’s hair and then there’s…that,” he clarified. The heat that had blossomed between your legs only moments before was now in your head, your embarrassment probably very visible. Richie rose from the stool, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I’m really sorry if I overstepped any boundaries, Mr. Tozier.” It was all you could think of to say. You dared to look up from the floor only to see him crack a smile. “Let’s see if I can get you to say my name…a little differently.”

Just when you realized he had been messing with you, he pulled you close, his touch determined and without any hint of panic, fear, or doubt. “Let’s try that again,” he suggested and leaned in, this time nuzzling your neck before placing a gentle kiss on your heated skin. Your eyes fluttered shut but you didn’t dare touch him yet. “I thought you wanted to overstep some boundaries,” he asked against your skin, lips wandering higher, towards your jaw.

With your heart hammering in your chest and rekindled desire pounding between your legs, you finally wove your fingers into his hair, relishing it this time. “Much better,” Richie noted before his lips finally found yours.

As he deepened the kiss, he maneuvered you against the kitchen island, hands roaming your body. This played out better than any of the fantasies that had flickered through your head until he had knocked on your door.

Richie’s hand cupped your behind and he gave you a small nudge—an unspoken instruction to sit on the counter. He didn’t have to tell you to open your legs to make room for him once you sat on the white marble surface.

His lips were still on yours, tongues dancing, when he palmed your breast through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You moaned against his lips and angled one leg behind him, urging him closer. You wanted more of him, more of this.

Slowly, Richie moved his hand from your breast, wandering down, until it slipped underneath the dress. His fingers grazed up your thigh lazily. Higher and higher. And—

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he noted breathlessly, his hand resting on your thigh, mere inches away from where you wanted him to caress you. “No.” You bit your lip, taking this brief moment to make him shrug off his jacket. “I had hoped you’d come here tonight.” Richie blinked as if honestly surprised. “I had hoped you’d come here and do…well, this. And some other things.”

“What other things?” he asked huskily.

“We don’t need to talk,” you assured him and placed another kiss on his lips, “Just touch me instead. Right here.” You angled your pelvis slightly, scooting as close to the edge of the counter as you could. With surprisingly steady fingers you guided his hand back to where you wanted it.

His brief moment of restraint was forgotten when his clever fingers found your bundle of nerves. You tipped your head back, his name falling from your lips in a low moan as he slipped a finger between your folds. All of the daydreaming had resulted in your body being more than just prepared to take what he had to offer. Richie realized that too and after having explored you for some moments, he retreated his hand.

A whine escaped you at the sudden loss of friction. You didn’t have time to voice your complaint as Richie was already unbuckling his belt. While he freed his impressive erection, you rucked up your dress, every nerve inside you tingling with anticipation.

His fingers dug into your thighs mercilessly as he pulled you closer, easing into you. You could already tell that you would bruise from his grip while your lips met in another hungry kiss.

Richie was surprisingly gentle at first, letting you adjust to the fullness, to his rhythm. And yet, you knew that neither of you would last long.

With every thrust, his pace increased and you met his fierce onslaught every time, savoring every inch of him, every part of you that touched. Desperate for release, you reached between your legs, helping yourself along. His pace started to become sloppy, telling you that he was approaching the edge—and so were you.

The orgasm that finally crashed over you was an unforgiving wave of pleasure and you held onto Richie as stars danced in front of your eyes. Your climax was his own undoing and after one more stroke, he stilled, breathing heavily. A smile spread on your face as your fingers wove themselves into his messy curls again, his lips finding yours.

“Was this what you had in mind?” he breathed against your lips. You shrugged. “Not entirely. But then again, you don’t have to leave yet.” He let out a small laugh.

Just when you had parted and were busy adjusting your clothing, Richie’s phone buzzed. “I’m sorry, I think I…I think I’ll have to meet the others,” he explained, brows nudged together and worry flashing over his face as he read the text message he had just received.

“So you’re not checking out?” you asked, legs wobbly after you came to stand again. He shook his head. “I guess not.”

There was something he wasn’t saying.

“How about you tell me more tomorrow? Go, meet your friends. You know where to find me.” Richie only managed to give you a half-smile before he kissed you. “Wait up for me, okay? I’ll be back later.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For more sex? Or just some fresh linens?” You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at your own joke. But Richie looked serious. “For sleeping. I don’t want you to be alone. Not with what’s out there.” His sobriety made your stomach turn leaden. “Okay, I’ll be down here. Let me walk you out.”

Before he stepped outside, he turned around. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, a gesture so similar to the touch that had started it all. “Be safe.” Your voice was barely more than a whisper. “You, too.” He kissed you one last time and then hurried down the steps.

As you locked the door, you heard someone calling your name from somewhere inside the house and the faint sound of jingling bells.

It was coming from your bedroom.

You snuck down the dimly lit hall and into your dark bedroom. Glowing golden-yellow eyes fixed on you out from utter nothingness until a shape took form. First, the renaissance clown costume, crafted from silk that may once have been white but had now taken on an ashy color. Three red pompoms appeared next, one after the other, adorning the front. Then, a white, fluffy collar, followed by a painted face and fluffy ginger hair. Hands, covered in white gloves, clenched and unclenched as it watched you, drool dripping from his red-painted lips into his costume.

“[Y/N], you’ve been a very, _very_ bad girl tonight.”

You straightened, folding your arms in front of your body protectively. “And you’ve been watching me when you shouldn’t have.” Without breaking your glare, you reached behind yourself to turn on the light. “Now, tell me what you want. Because I’m expecting company.”

“Tell me what you want, Pennywise. Tell me what you want,” the clown parroted.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation and almost missed how he changed in front of your eyes. Changed from that scary, repulsive clown into the form you were much more accustomed to: a staggeringly handsome face with full lips, perfect cheekbones, and square jaw. Blue eyes looked at you attentively as he ran a hand through his dark blonde hair that had fallen into his face softly. A perfectly fitted black suit only hinted at his slender yet muscular physique.

“I want to know,” he said, his new voice caressing your bones, “Why you, who could be the strongest female in the universe if she would ever so desire, would choose someone like him to lay with her.”

You put your hands on your hips. “It’s quite simple, Pennywise. He fulfilled my desire, something you have rejected to do, to this very day. Besides, what do you care? You’ve never been bothered by my lovers before.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing. “Because this time you have decided to lay with someone who I’ve been waiting for for a long time…”


	2. Chapter 2

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over you. _It’s something worse than a serial killer, something evil_. You should have known then, should have guessed that he was referring to this eons-old entity. This was what they were afraid of. Pennywise, who had been a part of your life for almost as long as you could remember. There had been a time when you had been vulnerable, when he had looked after you, had cared for you.

When you were only just a little girl, Pennywise had been awoken by you. His sleep had only lasted a few years when you had set something in motion that had shaken the very ground of Derry. Something strong enough to awaken a creature that was hungry for children’s tender flesh.

Pennywise had been the one to find you. Drool had been dripping from his crimson lips when he saw you, sitting amidst the bodies—those small fragile bodies, bones contorted, blood dripping from eyes, noses, mouths. It had been terrible. A nightmare come true.

That day, those bullying children had died because of you. Because of a power that had slumbered inside of you. A power that had only decided to stir when you had been in dire need of help. Children had always been able to tell that there was something different about you, something off. Adults had never seemed to notice, they only ever saw the sweet innocent child of a well-established, happy couple.

When you had just started kindergarten, your mother fell sick to a mysterious illness. Once she had succumbed to it, you had felt a strange sensation wash over you like a ruthless wave. But you could only tread water for so long until you sunk, dragged deeper and deeper by a forceful undertow. A power you still hadn’t fully understood.

Pennywise could have eaten you that day—maybe he should have eaten you that day—but he had been delighted by this little creature that had been cursed with something he found too fascinating to demolish.

Ever since that day, he had stayed with you. Hidden in shadows, under your bed, following you silently; the clown had always been there. With him, you had learned to subdue whatever it was that existed inside you. Over time, he had taught you how to turn that burning wildfire into a small, manageable ember.  
The blood on your own hands had always kept you from urging him to find another sustenance than human flesh. No one could guess that for you, to ease your conscience, he chose his prey wisely: the children that had gone missing had been terminally ill, the adults were molesters, murderers or other vile creatures.

After all these years, after all that had happened, you were bound to one another in ways neither of you dared to question. Mutual respect and fascination had kept you both alive and one fateful night, you had been bold enough to ask him what he looked like underneath that costume. Everything had changed once you had seen his preferred human form, had seen the beautiful man that still stood before you now. A man, you had grown to desire more than anything else. Or so you thought.

“Why have you waited until now to ask them to come back to you?” you asked, honestly curious. Pennywise shrugged, the movement easy and elegant. “I wanted them to believe that they had defeated me.”

They had been children. They had fought him when they were nothing but children. Pennywise had chosen this moment specifically to call them back home. He wanted to play with them, play with them like a feral cat with its prey. Just because he had nothing better to do.

“What do you want with him—with them?” You needed to hear it, no matter how much it horrified you.

His mouth curled up in a demonic grin and he slipped his hands into his pockets, sauntering towards you with lethal grace. “Would you mind if I kill him? If I eat him? Slowly?”

Your mouth went dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. This was not just a question. It was a promise and a warning all at once.

Maybe it was time to put another player on the field. Even if it was just to keep a group of strangers from giving their life for something that was beyond their control. This was no longer their weight to carry—it had become yours. And you would gladly carry it.

“I want you to spare him, to spare them all.” You willed yourself not to break his stare.

“Not after what he just did to you,” Pennywise stated matter-of-factly, his eyes wandering over you slowly, territorially. “Why? How did that make you feel?”  
He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a ghost of a touch. A lover’s touch. It felt as if your heart would jump out of your chest as you waited for him to say something. “Seeing you with him…” Pennywise paused and sucked on his teeth. “You can have anyone but him.”

You scoffed and swatted his hand away decidedly. “See, you’re lying. I can’t have _anyone_, now can I?” For a split second, his eyes turned yellow, revealing just how furious he was.

In all those years, he had never touched you. It was as if your feelings for him went unheeded, bouncing off an adamant wall. As you had gotten older, you had taken a string of lovers that had never been able to truly fill that void inside of you—until tonight. Richie had sparked a desire inside of you that had been similar to the need you felt for Pennywise.

Oh, the irony of it.

“Don’t test me, my sweet girl,” he hissed. With the ferocity of a snake, his fingers curled around your throat. “Then tell me what you came here for… Tell me it’s me,” you demanded, enjoying this rough handling a little too much. His grip loosened and you grinned triumphantly. Just because he had never given in to your temptation didn’t mean that he was unaffected by it.

“The way I see it I could just ask them all to leave. Maybe I will leave with them. You’re bound to this place. I’m not. Don’t ever forget that,” you reminded him. “Kill Richie Tozier or any of his friends and I will leave you. I dare you.”

Eyes turned yellow again and he pushed you up against the wall, the force of it knocking down a mirror which shattered on the floor. “Do you want to know what they’re talking about? What _he_ is talking about? They want to kill me.” Pennywise leaned in, close enough to share breath. “Would you want me to die, [Y/N]?”

“Would you want me to leave?” you countered. His full lips pressed into a hard line. “Give me a reason to stay. Give me a reason to let that man leave by himself, while I stay here. With you. After all, it was you who called these people here. This might be your game, Pennywise, but you’re not playing it alone anymore. I’m right there with you, with _all_ of you. And I think I’ve chosen my alliance. Enough innocent lives have ended because of us.”

His nostrils flared delicately. Rage, he was consumed by pure rage, those yellow eyes burning straight through you. “Remember what I’m capable of.” _Remember the Deadlights_.

“Remember that it was I who awoke you. I’m not that helpless child anymore, Pennywise. I’m not without my own weapons and I’m not scared of you.”  
He licked his lips and for a second you thought he might finally kiss you. Instead, his lips moved to your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he whispered, “Sometimes I think I may have taught you too well. This is only just the beginning. Let’s play.”

Just when you pulled in a breath to retort something, he disappeared, leaving you behind.

Pennywise hadn’t just left you because he wanted to leave you when you craved him most—he had left because someone had heard the shattering mirror. Richie was knocking on the door furiously, calling your name.  
You took a deep, steadying breath before letting him in.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes scanning the surroundings frantically. Nothing in your home would suggest that you were connected to Pennywise in any way. No one had ever seen you two together, not even in his human form. He had always made sure of that.

“I’m clumsy that’s all,” you assured him, “I knocked a mirror off the wall.” You made a mental note to keep the windows closed in the future, even if you knew that it was Pennywise who had assured that Richie would hear noises from your home. He wanted him to come over here so he could keep a close eye on you both.

“I take it that you’re checking out of your room after all?” Richie followed your gaze to the duffle bag in his hand. “If you would have me?” he asked, a sweet smile on his lips that melted Pennywise’s phantom touch away immediately. Instead of answering his question, you just kissed him. “Thank goodness, because I really didn’t want to pay for those ridiculous room rates.” He sighed with exaggerated relief.

“Who says you don’t have to pay for staying here?” you asked with an arched eyebrow. “Something tells me you’re not referring to money.” His throat bobbed and the bag fell to the ground with a soft thud. “Clever boy. I hope you’re not too tired yet.”

When you had lead Richie into your bedroom, you realized that the mirror was intact and hanging in its usual spot again. Your opponent was still here, hiding somewhere, too curious and too controlling to leave you be.

“How about you settle in while I freshen up real quick?” you suggested. It was time to tell this clown that he needed to leave for the night—your house was not big enough for this.

You sat on the edge of the tub, eyes staring into nothingness. “You need to get out. Now. I’m busy tonight.”

Unexpectedly, you could feel rising steam warm your back as if the tub was filled with another hot bath. Frowning, you looked over your shoulder, only to find a lovely specimen of man lying in your bathtub. Stark naked, not an inch of his delicious body obscured.

“Something tells me you want me to stay,” Pennywise purred and rested his hand on your thigh, the thin fabric of your dress soaking through immediately. “Don’t touch me. You had your chance earlier. _Get out_.” Determined, you rose—enjoying the view as you looked down on him. Wet hair hanging into his face, damp skin making his cheekbones appear razor-sharp, a body shaped to perfection. _Every part of it_.

“What part of ‘get out’ didn’t you understand, Pennywise?” you checked and pulled the stopper. Maybe your lust for him would wash down the drain, along with the water.

A muscle in his jaw feathered and he sat up, looking at you with a pout. “Your body betrays you.” There was no need for him to point that out, so you just gave him a look of annoyance.

“Yes, but someone else will take care of my needs tonight. Just imagining what Richie Tozier could do to me now that we have all night together turns me on more than you ever have,” you teased and a realization hit you. Pennywise had never seen you naked.

“Let’s play, old friend.” You bit your lip and shrugged off the cardigan. The eons-old creature blinked slowly, not entirely sure what he was about to witness. Why hadn’t you thought about this before?

“I think…I think I want him to caress my breasts first. I want him to take his sweet time, to graze my nipples with his teeth. I want him to mark my body with bites and bruises.” You pushed down the straps of your dress and let it fall to the floor, the fabric pooling around your ankles. Pennywise swallowed hard, blue eyes eating up every detail of your body—every curve, every freckle, every birthmark.

“He won’t have to be gentle with me,” you breathed, letting your fingers dance over your skin, “I want him to make me scream his name tonight. First, when his fingers slip into me, when his tongue tastes me. Then, when he fucks me. Hard. In whatever way he pleases. Because tonight, I’m his. Only his.”

Pennywise’s eyes turned yellow again and you looked down at him victoriously when you noticed that your words had had other effects on him too.

“Get out. Or I’ll make sure we put on a show for you tonight. Admit your defeat, I won this round. We can play again tomorrow.”

“This isn’t over,” he hissed at you, slowly fading before your eyes until he was gone. And this time, he wasn’t hiding anywhere in your house but had retreated to his lair for good.

You didn’t bother to put anything back on when you walked back into the bedroom, barefoot and hips swaying with confidence. Richie was sitting on your bed, flipping through a book when his eyes looked up briefly. He double-checked when he realized you stood before him in nothing but your birthday suit.

“You, Richie Tozier, make me do things that I shouldn’t,” you said and took the book from his hands, throwing it to the ground. “What, are you quoting Ariana Grande now?” he asked drily. You shrugged, straddling him. “I’m more of a dangerous woman than you might think.”

He didn’t have to know what dangers you were capable of. Not yet, not now.  
“Now stop ruining this moment with pop culture references,” you breathed against his lips before kissing him deeply, “I want you to have me whichever way you want.”

“Whichever way I want?” he checked, his lust-clouded eyes only adding to your arousal. You nodded. “Whichever way you want. I’m yours, body and soul. Defile me, caress me, use me. I don’t care, I just want you.”

That night you fell asleep from utter exhaustion, wrapped in his strong arms protectively.

The next morning came too soon. You dared a peek through your eyelashes, at Richie’s naked body dipped in the rays of the burning morning sun that fell through the curtains. A content smile spread on your face and as you stretched lazily you felt sore from last night.

No past lover had ever made you feel the things that you had felt with Richie last night. It had been marvelous, every second of it—and you could barely wait for more. However, your wish for morning sex would have to wait for a little longer because your lover was still fast asleep. His breathing was so calm and even that you didn’t as much as press a kiss onto his skin before you tiptoed into the bathroom.

You hurried through your morning routine and while you waited for the water to run hot in the shower, you inspected your bruises and lovebites. Richie hadn’t been too rough with you last night and you knew that some of the bruises were from Pennywise. As that realization sunk in, you grimaced. You much rather wanted to focus on that very generous lover that was snoozing in your bed. Pennywise would find you sooner rather than later anyway.

Steam was already clouding the glass of the shower when you stepped under the water, savoring the warmth. After you had washed your hair and body, you stood, eyes closed, imagining what Richie would do to you once he had woken up. You felt like a love-struck, hormonal teenager.

He wanted you to meet his friends today. But that was later—you still had a little time until then. There was still a little time until Pennywise would be on everyone’s lips, until you had to seriously consider when you would have to reach into that deep well of power inside of you. Either to help those friends or to—

“Keep your eyes closed,” Richie said unexpectedly, cold air licking over your body when the shower door was opened. “Turn around for me, put your hands against the wall.” The instructive edge in his voice made your skin tingle with anticipation.

A finger brushed down the length of your spine, sending a shiver through you. Arms reached around you and a kiss was pressed against your shoulder. Far too willingly, you tipped your head to the side, allowing him access to your neck. Hands wandered over your curves brazenly as he kissed your neck. Skillful fingers pinched your nipples, coaxing a moan from you. A needy knot formed in your belly and you craved for his touch to wander down.

“Spread your legs for me. Let me feel you,” he instructed. Even though you were almost overwhelmed by arousal, his words seemed odd. Richie hadn’t been so dominant last night. This was…different.

Your eyes flashed open and you whirled around. “You filthy shapeshifter,” you hissed and shoved Pennywise away from you. A smirk appeared on his wicked lips. Lips you had wished to kiss you for so long.

“I told you we would play today. Don’t act surprised.” He chuckled and reached out to push against one of his bruises, the dull pain reminding you of his words. “I must admit, when I saw you, truly saw you last night…I desired you.” He licked his lips, hunger burning in those ancient, cunning eyes. “Do you still want me to play with you? To play _this_ game?”

Suddenly, you felt the urge to turn the water on cold. Should you tell him off? Should you give away your loyalty just like that?

“Yes.” The word blurted out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Yes, I want you to play this game with me.”

“Good girl,” Pennywise purred and cupped your face, “I will show you now how only I can make you feel. I will give you a reason to rethink that alliance.” His lips finally met yours in a sensuous kiss that made you burn like the wildfire you had learned to subdue.

You allowed your arms to snake up around his neck, pulling him closer to you, relishing in the sensation of his warm skin pressed against yours as water poured over you both.

As he kissed you deeply and thoroughly, a hand dipped between your legs, brushing against your throbbing core. Oh, how you wanted this.

“What would you like me to do first?” he asked and you could only moan when his finger slipped inside of you. Grateful for his support, you didn’t reply at first but just savored how he explored you for the first time. You angled your hips slightly, grinding yourself against his touch, wanting more—needing more.  
“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or do you want something else?” He just wanted to hear you beg him for more. “I want you to—” You pulled in a breath when he started to rub your clit with his thumb. Such clever, clever hands.

“Your wish is spelled out in your head. Ask me to fulfill that wish,” he urged, rubbing harder. “Please,” you finally panted, “Please.”

Pennywise removed his hand and licked his fingers clean of you. “Then turn around. And put those hands against the wall.” This time, you did as instructed.  
Hands held onto your hips when he finally thrusted into you deeply. His size made you yelp with pleasure. “Is this how you imagined it to be?” he asked as you adjusted to every glorious inch of him.

No, this was better. So much better.

“Tell me,” he urged as he eased out of you only to push into you, harder this time. “You feel better than I imagined,” you admitted and moaned as he found a rhythm, pounding in and out of you mercilessly.

You might have cursed his shapeshifting abilities before, but as he moved you learned to appreciate them. He could fill you in ways that shouldn’t be possible, creating friction that drove you crazy. A well-known sensation started to build inside of you and you prepared yourself for a violent orgasm.

When it finally crashed over you, your eyes rolled back, and it took all of your self-control to not call out his name in pleasure. Pennywise slammed into you one more time until he found his own release, his chest pressed against your back.

“Let me know when you need another wish fulfilled,” he whispered into your ear before he moved away from you, as if completely unfazed by what had just happened. “Remember this today. Remember this when you’re with him.”  
You were still catching your breath, leaning against the slick tiles of the shower when you realized he had disappeared again. With shaky limbs, you allowed yourself to sink onto the floor. You barely registered that the bathroom door opened.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Richie said and leaned in the doorframe nonchalantly. “While you seemed to enjoy that shower just fine without company, make sure to invite me next time.”

Yes, you would invite him next time—you would try to invite him anywhere you went. Because otherwise he and his friends might not get out of Derry alive. And you might get lost in a tangle you could never free yourself from.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took me so long to finish! Quick disclaimer, if you haven’t seen IT Chapter Two yet (go see it, srsly) then this contains spoilers. Read at your own risk! Also: Richie smut is back!

Nervousness made your stomach churn. Meeting Richie’s friends meant meeting the people who Pennywise wanted to torment. It meant speaking to them about the creature. It meant that you’d have to admit that you were very aware of everything that was happening in Derry.

Reluctantly, you followed Richie into the dining room. The Town House felt oddly unfamiliar and strange today, nothing like the warm place you had known your entire life. It was as if Richie could feel your unease, his hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

Earlier, he had offered that you could still leave, that he’d be willing to go with you, but you had shaken your head decidedly. You couldn’t run, and they shouldn’t.

They shouldn’t be here in the first place. They should have rejected the invitation, the call, to come back home.

Five pairs of weary eyes rested on you as you slid into a chair, next to Richie. Unsurprisingly, no one seemed to have gotten any sleep.

Suddenly, the spacious old dining room seemed almost nightmarish and not even the delicious scent of coffee and fresh pastries could ease the chill that had settled into your bones. There were too many ghosts in this room.

“Someone is missing,” you noted almost absentmindedly, voicing what your instincts had just whispered to you. “One of us cou-couldn’t make it,” someone said. Bill Denbrough. You recognized him from one of his book covers. There was no need for him to tell you that the missing friend had died—had surrendered to his fear.

“Why did you have to pull her into this, Richie?” Mike Hanlon asked sternly. You knew him from the library—knew that he was researching Pennywise and had asked whoever wanted to talk to him about the entity that haunted this place. Sometimes you wondered if your old friend had spoken to him in a human form, just to ensure that he would get false information. Whatever plan he had crafted over the years, it would be faulty. And dangerous.

Richie opened his mouth, but you beat him to it, saying, “Because I asked him to.” The friends exchanged disbelieving glances. “We’re not going out on a picnic today,” Mike clarified darkly. You scoffed. With this attitude, you might as well put the cards on the table right now.

_No. Not yet. Wait._

“I’m not as scared as you are, not even remotely,” you said icily, narrowing your eyes. Next to you, Richie let out a small cough, telling you that he was stifling a laugh. “Tell me what I need to know in order to help you.”

“I like her,” Beverly said with a smile that melted the room’s tension away. “This is not going to be pretty, I hope you had all your shots.” Anxiety flickered in the man’s brown eyes as you met them. “I don’t think that’s what we should be most worried about, Eddie,” a handsome man said, his gaze resting on Beverly longingly. “Shut up, Ben, you can get all sorts of infections and—” Eddie embarked on a lengthy monologue of all the sicknesses the group could possibly get. No one really listened to him, but slowly frowns and stern faces relaxed, easing into grins and chuckles.

This was a tight-knit group. You had to keep them safe. They had lost enough.

It was Richie who, eventually, pulled in a breath and started to lay out their story, their encounter with Pennywise twenty-seven years ago. With memory slowly finding its way back, the friends pieced together the horrifying happenings. It started with Georgie Denbrough getting pulled into the storm drain and ended with the friends making a vow to return to Derry if It should ever return.

You felt nauseous thinking about what Pennywise had done to these people—and what he had done to you. This morning. Guilt and shame threatened to suffocate you when Richie rested his hand on your thigh, a gesture of comfort and protection. _I’m here for you, I’ll keep you safe._

A part of you wanted to get up, to run out, to get away from all of this. But instead, it felt as if you were glued to the chair.

Even if Pennywise had changed, had changed for you no less, you needed to restore the equilibrium somehow. The pain needed to be compensated, and you were more than willing to pay whatever settlement would reveal itself.

“Let’s get going. There’s no time to waste,” Mike urged and gestured towards the door, “There’s no going back now, [Y/N].”

“I gathered as much,” you snapped, growing tired of his tone. After all, it was you who would change his ineffective plan into something that would—_could_—work. You. Sooner or later, you’d have to push open the door inside you that you had once locked so meticulously.

As you all started to head towards the Barrens, Richie started bickering with Eddie. While Bill, Mike, and Ben were wallowing in memories, Beverly hooked her arm through yours. She slowed her steps slightly, the small distance to the others allowing her to speak to you without them overhearing.

“Richie stayed with you last night, huh?” she asked, a knowing grin on her lips. A blush crept into your cheeks at her suggestiveness. “Yeah…it just happened,” you shrugged, unsure where this conversation was going. After all, you were two consenting adults. Having mind-blowing sex and helping him solve a mystery didn’t mean you were dating. There really was no reason to have the ‘don’t break his heart’-conversation yet, or was there?

“Why are you doing this for us—for him?” she asked, honestly curious. You swallowed hard and answered, “Because it’s the right thing to do. You lost a player and I believe you need someone to stand-in for him. Not that I’m trying to fill his shoes, no one could. But you will need me.”

“This might sound weird,” she paused, brilliant blue eyes finding yours, “but when I got caught in the Deadlights, I saw something. I saw our future.” The hairs on the back of your neck rose, telling you that whatever she was to say was important.

“I didn’t…you weren’t a part of that vision. I had seen Stanley take his life in the bathtub, everything so far has happened exactly how I saw it. But you, you’re like a blindspot,” she explained. “I believe that nothing you saw is set in stone. There’s always a blindspot, an unpredictability. How can you be sure that what you saw isn’t just what Pennywise wanted you to see?” Beverly looked to her friends, contemplating your words. “Just know that I will be a vital player in this game.”

“You keep referring to this as a game. Why?”

“Because that’s what this is. To Pennywise this is a game, and we need to get a step ahead of him. Desperately.” You sighed through your nose, a shadow dancing between the trees, catching your attention. Of course, he would be here. He would keep an eye on you. On all of you.

In front of you, the men came to a halt and Ben started to test the ground for the entrance to their clubhouse. Richie and Eddie’s playful quarrel had stopped too and he now looked at you, a warm smile on his face when he realized you were bonding with one of his friends.

“You say that name with an odd sense of intimacy,” Beverly noted and looked at you intently, searching for answers to questions she hadn’t yet asked. You closed your eyes, ignoring the warning in your head and said, “It’s because I’ve seen Pennywise, too. I’ve seen him for most of my life.” Everyone’s attention shifted to you. And just then Ben crashed through the hatch.

Except for Ben’s moans, the forest had fallen silent. The wind stilled and even the birds who had been chirping happily a moment ago had quieted down.

“I’m okay, I’m good,” Ben called and cut through the eerie silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Richie asked, the smile on his lips faltering. You could barely bear the disappointment that laced his words. “Because I was afraid.” A half-truth that would have to suffice. “I was afraid of…him.”

“But if you’ve seen him for mo-most of your life,” Bill started. “Then it hasn’t slept for twenty-seven years,” Beverly concluded, “It’s been awake.” The friends looked to Mike who had only just called them back now, after Pennywise had eaten parts of the fatally injured man. You were grateful that they didn’t dig deeper, didn’t ask _how_ you had learned about Its existence.

“Guys, c’mon now. That thing had written ‘come home’ all over the bridge. I didn’t make this up,” Mike defended himself, holding up his palms in a surrendering gesture. “Well, that thing has apparently been on its best behavior if you hadn’t noticed its return until now,” Eddie spat, gesturing wildly.

“Let’s not get into this now. Let’s do what we came here for,” you reasoned, seeing panic flashing in Mike’s eyes. It was bad enough that they didn’t want to be here to begin with, but they shouldn’t start blaming one another.

“She’s right. Let’s not get into another fight,” Mike agreed. “Another fight?” Eddie checked. “Yes, remember when I threw a p-punch at Richie?” Bill reminded him and Richie rubbed his jaw as if not only the memory but also the pain had returned.

“I remember that, too.” Ben’s voice sounded slightly muffled as if he had already started exploring their underground clubhouse. “We should go down there,” Beverly suggested and was the first to climb down the stairs.

While the others disappeared, one after the other, you caught up to Richie. Although you wanted to, you refrained from taking his hand. “I’m sorry, I should have told you,” you muttered softly. His gaze didn’t meet yours. “Yes, you should have. Last night, when I knocked on your door and you invited me in. Before we…” He ran a hand through his hair. “You made my fear seem irrational and unfounded.”

“I didn’t know then that you were afraid of Pennywise. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but here in Derry, people are afraid of many different things and not all of these fears stem from the clown. He only feeds off of them. Besides, how do you think it would look if I confess to knowing about an unexplainable, ancient evil creature? You guys, you and your friends, are the first people I’ve met that have survived seeing him, interacting with him. If I were to admit to seeing him, they’d lock me up with Henry Bowers.”

“You know about Henry Bowers?” Eddie called from inside the clubhouse, giving away that he had been eavesdropping.

Richie’s expression softened a bit and he brushed his knuckles over your burning cheek. “No more secrets, okay? We need to stick together. You’re one of us now. A loser.” He smiled bitterly. “No more secrets,” you repeated, ignoring the warning bells that went off inside your head.

Richie helped you get into the underground hideout. The walls would need to be reinforced should this place hold up for much longer. Spiders and other crawlers scuttled into the dirt or nooks, disturbed by the strip of daylight and the unwanted guests. A musty scent lingered in the air which quickly mixed with the forest’s rich scent that streamed in from above.

“Nice job, Ben,” you complimented as you imagined what this place had looked like when they had all been young teenagers. “Thank you. It’s in better shape than I had thought,” he said and picked up a cassette tape. “Ah, your real friends.” Beverly chuckled and nudged him playfully.

Next to you, Richie let go of a sigh, planting his hands in his pockets while the others were exploring. “Do you miss him?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper, almost drowned out by the other’s chatter. You rested your hand on his back and wished that you could take some of his pain away. “It’s not fair that he had to die,” Richie finally said, “We should have—I should have—” His voice trembled and he fell silent. “What happened to Stan wasn’t your fault,” you reminded him gently.

Around you, the others had stopped their exploring, ready to back you up. But Richie wiped the single tear that had run down his cheek away decidedly. “Let’s find Stan’s token and get out of here, I don’t want to get any spiders stuck in my hair.”

“I think I found it,” Bill noted and held up an old can. He opened it and fished out a floral-patterned shower cap. “Stanley wouldn’t wa-want you to get spiders in your hair either.” Richie let out a breathy laugh. “No, he was the best.”

You didn’t care about the others being there when you kissed away a new tear.

You would really have to stop Pennywise. For this—for them. For Richie. As the decision settled inside you, you built up strong, adamant walls around it, hiding it so deep inside of you that Pennywise would never find it. Never sense it.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked and took Richie’s hand in yours. You would need him now because as you stood there, in this perfect little hiding spot, you unlocked that place inside of you. A familiar tingling sensation washed over every fiber, every nerve of your body and you shuddered. “Are you okay?” Richie asked immediately. “Yes, I’m just getting paranoid now that we’ve talked so much about spiders,” you excused.

Power. Pure, untamed power waited patiently in an endless-seeming well.

“You will all need to find your tokens, by yourself,” Mike explained. “You want us to split up? That’s the dumbest fucking idea,” Eddie interjected and shook his head decidedly. “It’s important that you do it by yourself. For the ritual,” Mike pressed.

“Well, I’m not leaving Richie,” you said firmly. Mike drew in a breath but you shot him a look. “I’m not discussing this with you. I’m going with him and that’s that.”

Underneath your feet, the ground appeared to quiver at your words, telling you that you would have to dive into your power slowly. Carefully.

The friends exchanged nervous glances. “We should get out of here,” Ben suggested. Great. This would probably end in them being scared of you, too.

Once everyone had climbed back into the sunlight, plans were made to meet up at the Town House in a few hours. To your relief, you couldn’t sense Pennywise. Maybe he had grown tired of the reminiscing. Or your affection towards Richie.

As you started your walk back into town, you were grateful for Richie’s hand in yours. After all, you hadn’t just gone with him because he had been vulnerable and because you wanted to support him. No, you had gone with him to make sure that Pennywise wouldn’t tear him to ribbons when you weren’t looking.

After all, Pennywise might still be playing with the others. But after this morning, he would no longer be playing with Richie. He would hunt him.

“So this is where you would come as a little boy, huh?” you asked, a smile on your face after Richie had ushered you into the closed down arcade.

You had passed by this place so many times, wondering why no-one had ever attempted to refurbish it. Even now, hidden under layers of dust, old posters peeling away, and with graffiti splattered over the walls, you could imagine how welcoming this place had once been.

Richie’s hand rested on the small of your back. “Let’s just get that token and get out of here.” With a frown, you turned towards him. “Bad memories?” He nodded. “I remember…feeling very lonely here.” These were the things, memories, feelings that Pennywise could draw power from. You needed to cover his loneliness with something else. Anything else.

“Well, Richard Tozier,” you started quietly, putting change into the machine, a token clattering down, its metallic sound echoing off the walls, “you’re not alone here now.”

“Do you feel lonely? With me here?” you asked, sliding the token into his pocket, your face only inches from his. He closed his eyes and wetted his lips when your hand lingered in his pocket. “Anyone could come in here,” he said huskily. “And anyone could hear. So we better keep our voices down,” you suggested, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“You’re wicked.” He chuckled and let you move him against the nearest wall. “Oh, you have no idea.” You breathed your words against his lips and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Your hands quickly went to work, reaching for his growing bulge before fumbling with his belt and pants.

“So we’re gonna do this right here?” he got out as you nibbled at his earlobe, fingers busy massaging his erection. “Why, do you want me to stop?” you teased and basked in the way he looked at you as you slowly sunk to your knees. Richie shook his head decidedly and groaned when you licked over his tip, tasting him.

“Quiet now. You can be noisy later,” you reminded him. “Oh shit, what’s coming later?” he asked, resting his head against the wall. You ran a hand up his thigh brazenly, withholding your touch just for a little while. “Hm, I don’t know. When we’re back in my bedroom I might tie you to the bed. Then, I might straddle you, deciding how fast or painstakingly slow we’ll go,” you said nonchalantly, “Or you could punish me for lying to you. You could give me a whipping with this belt of yours. You could decide whether or not I’ve deserved to find release.”

Richie blinked at your boldness. He hadn’t been rough with you last night, but something told you that was about to change. “I…yes, we can do that.” He nodded eagerly. “Now, shut up and let me finish what I’ve started.” Fire burned behind his eyes when you finally put him in your mouth, licking his underside eagerly. Richie squirmed under your touch.

As you started to suck, his fingers wove into your hair, his hands telling you that you could increase your speed. But you didn’t, planning on tantalizing him for just a little longer. There was no need to hurry this along—even if your own arousal throbbed between your legs.

With tight lips, you moved up and down his shaft, your hand ensuring that all of him was getting pleasured. Richie let out a small moan when you took him deeper into your mouth with each stroke, your tongue massaging him.

From there, you let him dictate the speed and depth, taking whatever he gave you. Letting go of your power over him, submitting to him and his rhythm, added to your own lust. You could barely wait to get back to the house, to feel him between your thighs.

His breathing was getting faster and more shallow, telling you that he would finish soon. Muscles tensed under your touch, his pace getting uncontrolled. When he finally stilled, you swallowed his load, sucking up every last drop greedily.

“Fuck, [Y/N],” he breathed and relaxed against the wall, fingers untangling, leaving your hair in disarray. You licked your lips as you rose, brushing the dust off your knees. “How’s that for a new memory?” you asked, a mischievous grin on your face as you helped him straighten his clothes. “Let’s make more,” he suggested and claimed your lips. “How fast can we be back at your house? I want to return the favor.”

In the heat of the moment, you had barely noticed the haunting shadow in the corner by the door. Richie wouldn’t see him, the man that manifested from thin air, anger flickering in those blue eyes. “And here I thought I had fulfilled your needs this morning.” He tskd as if disappointed with you. You only shrugged slightly, fingers intertwining with Richie’s as he led you towards the exit.

Without awarding Pennywise with another glance, you stepped out onto Main Street, feeling for those protective walls inside you. They were still intact. Strong. Impenetrable.

He hadn’t noticed. Couldn’t have.

You tried to banish Pennywise from your mind as you found your way back to the house. And yet, the desire that you had felt so intensely only moments before seemed almost washed away. Maybe you had promised Richie something you weren’t ready to follow up on.

“I’ll quickly change,” you explained and rushed into your bedroom, closing the door behind yourself. Richie had already opened his mouth, probably offering that he could undress you. Right now, however, you just needed a moment to collect yourself.

The boldness that had driven you earlier…it had come from your power. It wasn’t like you regretted your actions, but you couldn’t get reckless later. There was no room for mistakes.

You took a deep steadying breath and finger-combed through your messy hair. Just when you wanted to undress, a flicker in your mirror caught your eyes.

_Not again._

“Pennywise, just go away. Go play somewhere else,” you huffed, pulling off your sweater. But when you looked into the mirror, it wasn’t Pennywise who stared back at you. Confused, you let a tendril of power brush against the glassy surface. This truly wasn’t him. He wasn’t anywhere close to your house.

So you only stared back, stared into the eyes that were so similar to your own.

Stared into the face of your mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologize again for not finishing this earlier. Nevertheless, I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter and where this story is going. I haven’t planned it out completely, but I think this miniseries is coming to an end soon-ish (maybe two more chapters, give or take).

It felt like your entire body had gone taut. How was this possible? Maybe Pennywise had found a way to fully conceal himself from you? And now he was playing with you again. Playing an evil, irreverent game that you would think beneath him.

“Don’t question this. I’m not one of his apparitions and we don’t have a lot of time so you need to concentrate,” your mother said, urgency in her soft voice. She looked just as beautiful as you remembered her to be. The pain of missing her struck you fiercely, ripping open wounds that had healed a long, long time ago.

“He will be here any minute. You must listen closely to what I have to say.” You didn’t think that Richie would believe his eyes or ears if he would see this. “I’m not talking about him,” she clarified, “But I’m glad your heart has found its way to someone else. Away from danger.”

“You know about Pennywise?” you asked, ignoring the fact that she could read your mind. She nodded curtly. “It’s my fault the group of friends, your friends, have fought him when they were children.” A chill danced down your spine and you blinked. “How so?”

“It was my task to maintain the balance. It was me who should have kept the Eater of Worlds in check,” she explained, silver lining her eyes, “But I was too busy cherishing my life. That wonderful, mundane life. You will not make the same mistake. You will restore pride to our lineage.”

The power that had awoken within you at such a young age…it had come from her. “What lineage?” You couldn’t stop your voice from trembling. Back then, your ascent had meant her downfall. Balance, such fragile balance.

“Salem witches. The women of our family were the most powerful amongst them. We’ve kept the line strong over the centuries. While our magic flourished, other witches perished, their magic running out. It’s nature’s way of telling us that we are only here to play one vital part, and I ignored mine. We’re here to make sure that the Eater of Worlds will take his rest. We’re here to make sure that he will not satiate his hunger until there is nothing left.”

Until Pennywise had devoured everything and annihilated existence as you knew it. She didn’t have to spell it out for you. You swallowed hard, an impossible weight suddenly resting on your shoulders.

“Your power awoke that day because you needed it more than me, because you know how to wield it, instinctively. Look at you, even as a child you were capable of containing this creature. And you didn’t even need your magic for it.” A proud smile spread on her face.

Whatever this was, wherever she came from, she truly was not part of the game.

Your chest tightened at her words, at her need to appear to you, and for the first time, you were truly afraid of Pennywise. “Mom, I…I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do. Use his love for you to your advantage. But always remember, no matter how tempting it might seem, you cannot end his existence. It’s tied to your own. He has been here before us, and he will endure.”

A thousand questions burned on your tongue, but you could see her image slowly morphing into your own features as if she was melting away. “Don’t leave me yet,” you begged and tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I must. He’s too close. Remember that I love you, remember that you’re stronger than I ever was. And remember to guard what you carry. Always guard what you carry.”

“I can’t carry this by myself,” you sobbed. But she was gone before she could utter another word. You pulled in a sharp breath, hugging yourself tightly as you sunk down on the bed.

If Pennywise was tied to your own life, then you couldn’t let the others kill him—or you would die with him.

You thought of the Losers who had paid so dearly for doing what your mother couldn’t. So many had died. Countless people had suffered. And this morning you had been willing to pay any price for restoring the equilibrium. If it was your own life…then so be it.

There was dark, destructive power within you. You had felt it, the first day it had awoken. This, all of this, led to you accessing that place again. Just one last time.

A soft knock on your bedroom door made your head snap up. Quickly, you wiped the tears away, forcing your face into neutrality.

“There’s someone here for you,” Richie said as he cracked the door open, attentive eyes scanning you. Your brows nudged together in confusion at his tone. Stern and sober.

“Who is it?” you demanded, ignoring the voice at the back of your head that reminded you that you would die soon, that your time with this man was limited. So terribly limited.

Richie met your gaze, a muscle feathering in his jaw. He was angry—and disappointed. “Someone who introduced himself as your boyfriend.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. “He’s not my boyfriend, I promise you,” you hissed, “No need to get jealous. I’ll throw him out on his ass immediately.” Pennywise would not come between Richie and you. Not now.

With determination, you strode into the living room, finding Pennywise with a bored look on his face. He was in his human form, not a hair out of place or a crease in his black three piece suit. Perfection. Walking, breathing, utterly dangerous perfection.

Instinctively, you checked your mental guards. He had probably always known that you were a Salem witch, had known about your strength. What he didn’t know, what he shouldn’t know, was that you had released that strength. That you were preparing yourself for using it.

Mike and the others wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, but Pennywise wanted to play. As long as he didn’t play dirty you would try to keep the others from attacking him. From attacking you. You would try to buy yourself time. Time to prepare. Time to spend with Richie.

“You need to leave,” you said through gritted teeth, folding your arms in front of your body protectively. A serpentine grin spread on his full lips. “Such harsh words for a man you love so dearly?” His smooth voice seemed to slither around you like a snake. “You wouldn’t know love if it spat you in the face,” you snarled.

Pennywise’s smile faltered ever so slightly. He had expected you to crumble, to give into him in front of Richie’s eyes. But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, you would stand your ground. “Please,” you started, “Please just leave. I can’t do this right now.” Tears burned behind your eyes again and you failed to stop them from pooling over.

His handsome face softened when he saw you crying. Pennywise hadn’t seen you cry for a long time. After all, he had always ensured that there was nothing to scare or harm you, nothing that could give you any pain. He lifted a hand as if he wanted to reach out to you, but when you immediately took a step back, he lowered it.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said flatly, sapphire blue eyes finding yours. _I’ll be there when you need me. I’ll give you today._ _A temporary truce._ His voice was nothing more but a whisper in your head, a soft caress that brought the tears to a stop.

Terribly aware of Richie lingering somewhere behind you, undoubtedly a scowl on his face, you mouthed a thank you. Pennywise inclined his head ever so slightly and then sauntered towards the door. “I lied,” he said to Richie before stepping over the threshold, “I’m not her boyfriend. Although sometimes…I wish I was.”

Your heart stopped in your chest as your mother’s words echoed in your head. _Love. His love for you_. All this time, you had waited for Pennywise to admit that he loved you. And this, this was probably as close as you would get to hear him say it. You sucked in a breath, unsure of what words might tumble out your mouth. But before you had the chance to speak, he walked out, the door falling shut behind him.

“Sorry for the drama,” was all you managed to say instead, rubbing your face. Strong arms embraced you from behind, pressing you against Richie’s chest tightly. “I can tell that you’re upset.” His voice was gentle, an unspoken invitation for you to speak about what was troubling you. Richie placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“This might be over before we know it,” you muttered. “You could leave Derry. You could come home with me,” Richie offered quietly, “Let me take you away from here. Let me take care of you.” It sounded tempting, and you wanted to believe that you could get out of this alive. With him.

“I want to say yes.” You paused, afraid of making promises you couldn’t keep—promises that would break his heart. “What’s keeping you?” He whispered his question into your ear, his breath tickling you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Instinctively, you tipped your head to the side, letting go of a shuddering breath as his lips brushed against your neck.

Richie’s hand wandered up and cupped your breast through your top. “You could start by saying yes to this and then we’ll take it from there,” he suggested, “We could take it slow this time. Would you like that?” He kissed your neck again, teeth grazing over your skin tenderly. “Yes,” you got out and wound yourself out of his hold so you could face him.

Losing yourself in him, even if it was just for a little while, was exactly what you wanted. “Whatever you need. I’m here for you,” Richie said as if he had read your thoughts.  
“I think you know what I need already.” You bit your lip and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Before long, a trail of clothes led to your bedroom.

Hands were busy roaming naked skin when Richie broke away from you just to say, “Lie down. I still owe you.”

More than willingly, you obliged and relaxed against the smooth sheets. Intuitively, you opened your legs, making room for him as his kisses slowly trailed down. Richie stopped at your collarbone for a moment, sucking hard enough to leave an intentional mark on your body.

“The bruises from last night aren’t enough, huh?” you checked and gasped as his mouth closed around your nipple, your comment resulting in him biting you playfully. “Last night you said you were mine. I’m just reminding you of that,” he answered and his territorial touch, this newfound tone, kindled the hunger for him like never before.

Slowly, fingers danced up your thigh as his mouth wandered down, past your abdomen. Lust threatened to consume you. “Please, Richie,” you urged, squirming under his touch. “Please, what?” He looked up at you, blue eyes alight with power—power over you. Now, you were at his mercy. And he was enjoying it immeasurably.

“Please, just get your head between my legs already,” you got out, fingers weaving into his silky curls. A wicked smile appeared on his face. “I’m in no rush.” Provocatively, he kissed the inside of your thigh, his stubble burning against your skin.

“I don’t remember treating you so viciously at the arcade,” you reminded him. “Such a greedy girl,” he chided. And yet, you felt his hand wandering up, up, up where you wanted it. A clever thumb started to massage your bundle of nerves. “Is this what you wanted?” he demanded.

In response, you pulled at his hair gently. “Ow, a simple ‘yes’ would have done it, [Y/N],” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Who said that little tug meant ‘yes’?” you teased, a surprised moan escaping you as he intensified the pressure at your sassy remark. “Use your clever tongue for something else,” you suggested.

This time, he finally did as you asked, his mouth moving to where his fingers had been only a moment before. You tipped your head back and gripped the sheets as he started to lick, his tongue stroking you expertly.

Richie drew idle circles over your skin, slowly moving up to give your breasts some attention. Reacting to your body’s needs instinctively, he changed his pace, and you let out a little yelp when he pinched your nipple gingerly. His touch slowly moved down the slope of your breast again, moving south.

You bucked your hips slightly, wanting more of him, but a strong hand pinned you down decidedly. His tongue didn’t stop its perfectly choreographed dance when he finally slid a finger into you. He let go of a moan himself, content with how wet you were for him, wet enough for him to add another finger. Unhurried, he started to plunge in and out of you, driving you positively insane with his rhythm.

A well-known feeling started to build deep inside you and just before you went over the edge, Richie pulled away.  
It was like a bucket of cold water and you took a deep breath before propping yourself up on your elbows. “Seriously?” you panted, a pleading look on your face.

Richie chuckled and sat up. “I thought it was up to me whether or not you deserved to find release.” You slumped down on the mattress again, cursing under your breath. “I wouldn’t have said that if I knew this was coming.”

You rolled onto your side, the need for him still pounding relentlessly between your legs—and seeing just how excited he had become while pleasuring you only made you want him more.

“I also said that I would tie you up and straddle you.” You arched an eyebrow, a vicious smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But I’ve reconsidered. Your hands are far too gifted to be—” Richie silenced you with a sensuous kiss and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Then let’s skip the tying up,” he suggested.

Richie sat up against the headboard and helped you ease onto him. While you got used to the delicious fullness of him, he kissed you lovingly, strong arms cradling you.

Now that you were in control, you started to move up and down, savoring each inch of him. Your movements were slow at first, allowing him to kiss you, to fondle your breasts, to grasp your behind. But although you relished this intimacy, this loving touch, you were desperate for the release you hadn’t gotten earlier.

Richie met you with a thrust every time as you started to bounce up and down. The sound of skin meeting skin mixed with your noises of pleasure roused you to increase the pace until you felt your thighs burn.

More. You wanted more.

You moved your hips in circles until you indulged in grinding fully against him. The friction this gave you made you tip your head back, your body tensing as you felt yourself approaching the edge.  
Stars danced before your eyes when your climax finally ripped through you. When Richie heard you call out his name, your walls contracting around him, he found his own release, emptying himself inside of you.

Catching your breath, you rested your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face as he held you close. “If we survive this,” he said quietly, caressing your back, “promise me that you’ll come with me.” His lips found yours and his words settled like dust after an explosion. This was a promise you could keep. _If we survive this._

“I promise I’ll come with you if we survive this,” you finally answered, brushing some hair away from his forehead that was beaded with sweat. “I don’t want to leave you.” It was the truth. You didn’t want to leave him. Because if you wouldn’t die, you knew you’d fall in love with him, deeply and unconditionally. It was only a matter of time.

This was a different love than what you felt for Pennywise. Unlike the ancient creature, Richie could give you a future—could truly answer your feelings.

Richie kissed you lovingly and said against your lips, “Then let’s kill this fucking clown.”  
The smile on your face didn’t reach your eyes so you just kissed him again.

You had almost fallen into a light slumber, head resting on Richie’s broad chest, when something tugged inside you. A tingling sensation travelled from deep in your gut to your fingertips. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Richie opened his eyes reluctantly when you lifted your head, brows nudged together in a frown as you looked around the room with confusion. “What’s up?” he asked, sounding sleepy. “I’m not sure yet,” you answered, the tingling inside you not subsiding.

It was your power. Your power was stirring—but not at Pennywise. He hadn’t lied when he had called the temporary truce. It was something, _someone_, else.

“Are the others back?” you asked, climbing out of bed. A shiver danced down your spine as cold air kissed against your naked skin. “I’m not sure. Why?” Richie put on his glasses, curiously watching you as you started to get dressed. “Something is wrong next door,” you explained after pulling on a sweater.

“What—how do you know? Did you hear something?” He looked towards the closed window, not a sound traveling in from outside. “I just…know,” you shrugged, throwing his pants at him. “Come on, let’s go.”

Ben and Beverly were sitting on the stairs in the lobby when you pushed open the door of the Town House, Richie following close behind you. “Did you find your token, Richie?” Beverly asked conversationally, the small smile on her lips fading when she saw the concern on your face.

“Did the clown get you, too?” Ben asked, getting up as if he wanted to help. Richie shook his head, “No, he was nowhere to be seen. She…she dragged me here just now. We were, uh, next door.” Ben pulled up his eyebrows and rubbed his neck in embarrassment when he understood what his friend was insinuating.

“Beep, beep, Richie,” Beverly muttered and got up too, reaching out to touch your arm. “What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Her voice was soft but urging. “Do you feel it, too?” you asked and looked up the stairs, up to where something tugged, tugged, tugged at you.

“Feel what, sweetie?” she asked. You felt Richie’s hand at the small of your back, but he didn’t say anything—as if Beverly’s words had silenced him.

“Did…someone come in here? Not Bill or Eddie, but someone else.” You looked towards the door that led to the office, although you knew that Olivia wasn’t here either. “Who should be here?” Ben asked, straightening as if he was getting ready for a fight.

Suddenly, someone barged in through the front door, almost stumbling over his own feet. “Eddie, you look like shit. What happened to you, man?” Richie commented and you dared to look over your shoulder, attention shifting from the second level.

Eddie was completely covered in dark grime, panic and disgust flashing in his eyes. He was shaking and tried to push his way past his friends and you. “I need a shower, let me through, assholes,” he said and swatted Richie’s hand away as he tried to hold him back.

“You can’t go up there,” you got out, crinkling your nose at the foul smell that came off him. Everyone turned to look to you. “Listen, I need to get this off of me _right now_ or who knows what kind of shit I’ll catch,” Eddie pleaded, rubbing his face as if he could get himself clean with his bare hands.

“Let me go up first,” you suggested. “No way am I letting you go up first,” Richie interjected. “I don’t need your protection,” you claimed calmly, “I’ll go up there first. You can follow me if you want, _but let me go first_.” Your voice was strong, unwavering. The friends blinked at your sharp tone and Richie held up his palms in defeat, the look on his face telling you that he was anything but pleased with how you were acting. You decided to ignore him and started walking up the stairs, letting that tug lead you.

Eventually, you came to a stop, holding out your hand so Eddie would give you his room key. No one dared to say anything and you held your breath when you unlocked the door.

Nothing. The room was empty, the bed made and untouched. The window was half-open which seemed slightly odd, but nothing to be too worried about. Maybe you were getting paranoid?

But the tug was still there, tingling and ominous. You tiptoed to the bathroom, opening the door slowly and peeked inside.

The face of a maniac peered back at you, eyes wide with wonder at this unforeseen arrival. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, get away, little girl,” the delusional Henry Bowers purred at you, a silver knife gleaming in his hand.

Pennywise had put him up to this. So much for the truce.

You took a step back, knowing that you needed to stay between the friends and the lunatic. He would jump them immediately, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to hurt you. A human shield, that’s what you were.

Behind you, Beverly let out a small shriek when she saw Bowers following you into the bedroom. “Beverly, call the police,” Ben instructed and probably shoved her back into the hallway before trying to come to help you. Richie’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling at you, but you dug your heels into the floor. “Time to die, Trashmouth,” Bowers spat, lifting his knife and taking another step towards you. “You get out right now, you hear me,” Richie hissed into your ear, “He doesn’t want you.”

“Exactly, he doesn’t want _me_. So stay behind me,” you urged, trying to wind yourself out of Richie’s unforgiving hold. Ben snuck up beside you, hands lifted so he would appear as no threat. “The police are on their way, it’s over for you Bowers.” You could hear Beverly whimpering from the hallway as she called for help, Eddie swearing colorfully.

“I’ll kill you before they get here,” the madman said, grinning from ear to ear, “Now get out of my way, princess. Let me do what he sent me here to do.”

“Ben, you need to back off and Richie you need to let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth. But Richie’s iron grip didn’t loosen and Ben didn’t move. Bowers took another step towards you and the tingling in your fingertips turned into an uncomfortable prickling. It was as if millions of small needles pierced through your skin. Blood started to rush in your ears, something inside you starting to push. “One more step, Bowers,” you warned, feeling like your power was suffocating you from the inside.

Darkness. It was the darkness you had felt that day when the children had died, the day of the carnage. You hadn’t been able to control it back then. What if you hurt Richie or the others?

Panicking, you clawed at Richie’s arm around you, thrashing until his grip loosened slightly just as Ben took a step towards Henry Bowers. Crazy eyes shifted from you to the handsome man. Bowers was just about to lunge when you finally wound yourself out of Richie’s hold. He would kill him. First Ben and then Richie. _Richie_.

_You know how to wield it, instinctively_.

Your mother’s words rang through you and you made a decision—you let the darkness wash over you, consume you, guide you. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms painfully. And you willed Bowers to freeze. The joyful insanity on his face immediately turned into fear. Pure and utter fear, eyes meeting yours. “Witch,” he spat at you.

Power, pure and cataclysmic, rushed through your veins. _Kill him, kill him, kill him._

You barely registered that the other’s were saying things, that someone tried to pull you out of the room again. No, not just someone. Richie.

“You tried to kill him.” The midnight voice that came from you wasn’t entirely your own. Everyone fell silent, the pulling stopped. “I will kill them all,” Bowers explained, a grin on his face. You shook your head slowly, feeling how you descended deeper and deeper into that well of power inside you. “Not if I kill you first,” you snarled and with a simple snap of your finger his neck cracked, the sound crisp and unmistakable.

As his body fell to the floor with a loud thud, the knife clattering to the ground, your power retreated, slowly nestling itself back into its well. You sunk to your knees, seeing how blood seeped from Bowers’ eyes, ears, and nostrils, slowly trickling to the floor.

“What…what just happened?” Ben stammered. “How did you do that?” Richie asked, voice eerily low. You looked at the friends, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted, your stomach leaden when you saw the confusion and dread in their eyes. “Richie,” you started but fell silent, unsure of what you should say.

Beverly was the one who snapped out of it first, her steps tentative as she came into the room, taking a closer look at Bowers’ lifeless body. She grimaced at the body before kneeling next to you. “How did you do that?” she asked softly, “Just try to explain it to us.”

And so you did.


End file.
